


Writer's Month 2020 Prompt 19: De-Aged

by RiatheMai



Series: Writer's Month 2020 Prompts [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: De-Aged, Gen, Gen Work, POV Sam Winchester, Writer's Month 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:22:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27437281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiatheMai/pseuds/RiatheMai
Summary: Writer's Month 2020 (August)Sam still remembered. The spell that had reduced him to a three-year-old had been reversed. He was back in his proper body at his proper age, but he still remembered.Everything.Warning: This contains light spoilers for my story, A Moment Like Forever. It's not necessary to read that first, but I hope you will. :-)
Series: Writer's Month 2020 Prompts [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922179
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14
Collections: Writer's Month 2020





	Writer's Month 2020 Prompt 19: De-Aged

**Author's Note:**

> AN 1: This is the last story I was able to finish for this daily writing challenge back in August. I'm pretty damned proud of this accomplishment, 19 stories in 19 days, considering I hadn't been able to write much of anything for over a year and had all but given up on ever writing again. I had a great roll going before Real Life kicked back in mid-August. 
> 
> Thank you everyone who has liked and commented on these stories. I can't express how much I appreciate it. <3
> 
> AN 2: When I saw this prompt, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it. This takes place several months after the end of my story A Moment Like Forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam still remembered.

The spell that had reduced him to a three-year-old had been reversed. He was back in his proper body at his proper age, but he still remembered.

Everything.

He remembered baking cookies and playing in the snow and eating mac and cheese that hadn’t come out of a blue box…and _liking it!_ And he remembered listening to bedtime stories as he lay in a bed that smelled clean and fresh, and being held in gentle arms while he fell asleep.

He remembered having a _mother_.

Or, at least, he remembered having something that he’d always imagined having a mother would feel like.

It had been months since they’d left Jody’s house and had returned to the place where he’d been de-aged. They’d coordinated with Dean’s ME contact, Dr Michales, and they’d found and destroyed the sigil the witch had used to turn his victims, confiscating whatever questionable and suspect objects they found, tucking them into curse boxes for safe keeping, and bringing them back to the bunker to store.

He’d talked to Jody a few times since then, too. That first conversation might have started out awkward, but she’d put a stop to that in her typical no-nonsense way.

Still, those memories kept popping up at unexpected times, feeling both distant and new at the same time, and sometimes feeling in conflict with other memories he had from when he was a child.

That was the strangest part of this whole thing. The things he’d experienced with Jody were just a few months old; it made sense that they would be in the forefront of his mind. What didn’t make sense, however, was when one of those “Sammy” moments popped up—him helping Jody make chocolate chip cookies—it seemed superimposed over other images, things he didn’t remember but that felt like he should—he and Dean in a dimly-lit kitchenette making slice-n-bake cookies.

_“Let me cut them, Sammy. You can put the circles on the sheet.”_

He could even head Dean’s voice and see Dean’s face—a child himself—as he slowly cut through the tube of store-bought dough with his hunting knife.

Then there were the memories of Jody, sitting on the side of his bed, reading him—Sammy—bedtime stories, but it was Dean’s voice he heard, younger, clearer, tripping over the harder words or making up new ones.

And then, just last night, he’d dreamt he was little again, waking up from a nightmare that had him screaming and crying, but instead of Jody coming to his side to hold him and rock him back to sleep, it was Dean.

_“It’s okay, Sammy. It’s just a nightmare. I got ya. You’re safe.”_

Those weren’t memories from when he had been three years old _for real_ , dredged up by the spell. These were memories he’d forgotten from when he had been four or five or six, from when it had been only Dean and him in those motel rooms or crappy apartments, Dad off on another hunt and Dean left to take care of Sam.

All those things that Jody had done for Sammy that felt like something a mother would have done, Dean had done for Sam a hundred times over. He hadn’t needed a spell to remind him that he owed Dean everything; he _knew_ that already. Even when things were strained between them, he knew that. But, now he had details, images and the feelings that came with them of so many memories.

If they spell had given him that, maybe he needed to stop looking at it like it was an adventure he’d like to forget.


End file.
